


Hold Me

by Baroness_Blixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Talking About Things, but not sounding as platonic, sharing a bed and cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 10:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13408920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_Blixen/pseuds/Baroness_Blixen
Summary: The bed scene in "Plus One". The dialogue is a slightly different one.





	Hold Me

She hasn’t been held by Mulder in a while. Or rather she hasn’t allowed herself that particular comfort. Tonight, though, she knows that she won’t sleep, won’t calm down until she’s in his arms. They go around her so easily, fit exactly right, as if they’ve been doing it every night for the last 25 years. It’s a half truth, she thinks and smiles. Then the darkness slips into bed with them, tries to get into Scully’s head and in between them. Mulder, oblivious to her thoughts, holds her tight, breathes against her neck.

“What’s gonna happen?”

“What’s gonna happen when?”

“When we’re old.”

“What do you mean ‘when’?” He chuckles and she smiles. He is right, of course. She won’t let him know it, though. Not now.

“Sooner or later we’re gonna retire and… are we gonna spend time together?”

“Where is that kind of talk coming from, Scully? That’s not you.” His is deep, sounds like sleep. She feels him get closer, if that’s at all possible. His warmth is everywhere around her. How she’s missed this, missed him.

“I’ll push your wheelchair around,” he mumbles into her ear, his breath tickling her, “with my own wheelchair.” More chuckling that rumbles through him.

“It’s not what I mean.” She tells him without any humor in her voice.

“What do you mean? I know you like to keep me guessing but… I’m old, Scully. I’m tired.” There’s a pause, a beat before she answers him.

“What if you meet someone? What if you meet someone… younger who wants to have kids.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say, Scully.”

“Thanks.” She mutters trying to move away from him, but he strengthens his hold on her.

“First of all, Scully, I am not looking for anyone,” he pauses and she wonders if he’s going to continue, the sentence half finished dangling over them for a long second, “It’s you, Scully. It’s been you for longer than I can recall. So that’s one thing you can take off your mind right now. As for kids… we already do. But what about you, hm? What if you meet someone with kids, or you adopt them, or-”

“Mulder.”

“What? You started it.”

“That’s not going to happen, Mulder.” She feels him nod against her as if he’s proving a point.

“Would you want… we never talked about it after William. Would you have wanted more kids?”

“I think… I would have liked to have another one.” She thinks of William. Of his smile that always reminded him of Mulder. What does his smile look like now? What color are his eyes, his hair? How does his laugh sound? Does he ever wonder about them, about the parents who gave him up? She sighs, thinks of Emily now. The memory is hazy; a blurry photo missing the edges. She has two children. Had. She had two children.

“Would have liked.” Mulder’s voice is no more than a whisper against her neck, his voice tapping against her skin. He kisses her there this time like he’s done so often as if he could soften her guilt, her thoughts. Take them away from her.

“Would you have wanted another one?” H

“Hmm. With you? Always, Scully.” They’re quiet for a moment. This is something else they haven’t done in a while; talk. It’s easier here in the safeness of the darkness, of a place that is not their home. If she needs to she can claim it was a moment of insanity, a moment of fear. Nothing else. But as Mulder sighs against her, as she sighs, too, just out of habit, she realizes that she doesn’t want to walk the tightrope anymore. She wriggles and turns in his arms. His eyes are small, he is so tired. Scully smiles at him. He smells good, he always does. Handsome, Judy called him. He’s always been handsome, ever since she first saw him. Now he is so much more than that, to her. More than she wants, sometimes. But as she looks at him now the half-smile lightening up his whole face as if he knows exactly what she’s going to do next, she couldn’t care less. 

“I think… we can’t change the past, Mulder. And no matter what you’ll be out there with your theories and I’ll be there to prove you wrong.”

“While pushing each other around in wheelchairs.” This time it’s her who chuckles. She nods, moves closer. Their faces are almost touching. She tries to remember the first time. Not the first time they had sex; the first time they stared at each other like this, open and vulnerable, sharing secrets that could never be uttered during the day, in the light. 

“And doing other stuff.”

“Other… stuff? Like what, Scully?”

“Like this.” She closes the distance, not that there is much to cover, and devours his mouth. She hasn’t allowed him to hold her in so long; she’s deprived them both of this so much longer. Scully forgets each and every ridiculous fear she’s just entertained, as Mulder’s hands start to roam, rediscover all the places they once knew; still know, she realizes. She moans into his mouth and his tongue comes to meet hers as if it were the first time. They know what they’re doing, she thinks with a grin against his lips, and they’ll be doing it for a while yet. Even when they’re retired and in wheelchairs. She gets it now. Nothing will change this, will come between them. Scully lets go.


End file.
